


You Make Me Feel (Like Dancing)

by quartetship



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Hook-Up, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8390515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: You've got a cute way of talkin'... You've got the better of me...

or
Tfw you're just trying to walk home by frat row but your fuckboy lab partner sees you...





	

**Author's Note:**

> So two days ago I saw [this artwork](https://twitter.com/5i2ish/status/790357108663332865) by [5i2ish](https://twitter.com/5i2ish) and I just... had to write a thing.
> 
> Idk what happened but this got way out of hand and now it's super long and filthy and angsty in turns but THERE IS ALSO A HAPPY ENDING, so please don't throw rocks at my windows, y'all. Enjoy the show and let me know what you think!
> 
> (As usual, I'm sticking with McClain & Kogane as surnames, until I have something else to work with in canon. Feel free to re-imagine them as whatever you'd like.)
> 
> \--

\--

Keith hated walking home at night on the best of days. He disliked it even when he truly was walking  _ home, _ but loathed it all the more when it was his dorm he was heading back to, after dark. Though well lit and safe, his school's campus and the surrounding area were noisy and raucous on the weekends, and for a person who did not enjoy the nightlife, it was like a casual stroll through hell. Busses only ran so late though, and Keith had made the mistake of missing every last one for the night. 

He hefted his bag higher onto his shoulder, quickening his steps as he turned the block corner that would walk him down his least favorite street of all. 

Frat row was a series of large, shabby houses, colorfully painted and even more colorfully populated. Each wore the facade of school pride, letters and numerals instead of proper address labeling on the building's front, and a well manicured lawn that distracted from the ill kept inside conditions. It was all for show, like Greek life and social clubs themselves, and that was what Keith hated most about it. That, and the rough and rowdy crowd that the block seemed to draw, every weekend. Even blocks away in his dorm, he could regularly see the lights and hear the sounds of parties, as well as the resulting sirens from any number of emergency services that had been called to the row of houses that semester, alone. It wasn't the kind of place Keith wanted to be anywhere near, even for the few minutes it took to walk past it. 

He lugged his bag along, trying to ignore the people spilling out of the doors and onto the porches and lawns of the houses. When he heard his name called from one of them, he briefly hoped they might be talking to  _ another _ Keith. They repeated his name though, and shouted it once more before he finally recognized the voice calling to him. 

Lance McClain. 

Lance was Keith's chemistry lab partner, a stranger before the start of the semester and not much more than an annoying acquaintance at the moment he began shouting after Keith. He was precisely the kind of Greek life asshole that made Keith's skin crawl, and if that wasn't obvious enough in his everyday actions, the bedsheet toga he was wrapped in as he waved Keith down brought it even more sharply into focus. Every ounce of logic Keith possessed screamed for him to keep walking, but Lance had seen him, and had surely seen Keith glance his way, as well. 

Begrudgingly, Keith slowed to a stop. 

“Keith, buddy, my man, what is up?!” Lance all but sang. “What are you doin’ in my neck of the woods at this time’a night?”

“Uh… walking.” Keith said flatly. Lance laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. 

“That sounds boring as shit, dude. You got plans tonight? You should come in with me!” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, indicating the house behind him. Keith tried not to cringe noticeably. 

“I'm not really a ‘party’ kind of guy, but thanks.” He feigned a polite smile and backed away from Lance, but his answer didn't seem to suit the guy. For Keith's two steps backward, Lance took three after him. 

“Aw, c’mon, man! It's gonna be super chill tonight. Free drinks, free food - and it's better than studying or sleeping or whatever. You've got the whole weekend for that, come on!” 

Despite the fact that he was dressed in a sheet and wearing what appeared to be tree twigs on his head - and smelled suspiciously like a punch bowl - Lance did actually make a compelling point. Keith truly had no better plans for the night, but what's more, he also had no  _ dinner _ plans, or meal plans for the entire weekend. His chosen dining card covered only two meals a day, five days a week - one of his less stellar ideas. Keith wasn't a fan of forced social interaction, but he was even less a fan of nearly starving to death every weekend. At least if he joined Lance, he could fill his stomach on someone else's dime, for the night. 

Sighing, he put his bag down on the sidewalk beside him. 

“Well, uh… How long are you guys gonna be here?” he asked. Lance's face fell, his mouth twisted to one side. 

“Oh don't give me that ‘I'll be back later’ bit dude, I'm not stupid.”

That much was debatable, Keith thought, but he shook his head. “No, no I mean how long does this  _ last?”  _

Immediately Lance's smile returned, wide and bright. “Oh it's basically an all night thing, y’know? Stay as long as you want. You can leave whenever.” He wiggled in place, almost dancing, and Keith had to force himself not to laugh as he weighed his options. Finally he inhaled deeply, gathering himself and his bag up and nodding. 

“Yeah, alright,” he shrugged. “I'll come in for a bit.” Lance hissed excitedly through his teeth, grinning like he'd won something far better than reluctant company for an hour or two. 

“You will?! Awesome! Come on, I'll give you the tour!” 

With that Keith let himself be led inside, guided by Lance as he clutched the sleeve of Keith's jacket, pulling him along. 

He only hoped the free food would be worth the inconvenience. 

\--

Walking in Lance's shadow didn't make wandering into a frat house any less awkward. Everyone looked their way as they passed, and Keith suddenly felt out of place, fully dressed. He silently cursed himself for even briefly wishing he had a spare bedsheet to dress in. Where the hell had his mind gone, so quickly? 

Still, he trailed after his host, and after a few minutes of following him, the tension began to ease. The people in the frat house were wrapped in bed linens, but otherwise seemed like perfectly normal human beings. They acknowledged Lance and Keith as they wandered past, but just as quickly looked away again, returning to their own conversations. It made keeping his eyes fixed on Lance a little less awkward. 

Leading him around the sprawling house, Lance proudly showed Keith room after room filled with vaguely familiar faces. Many of them were classmates, but Keith had never spoken to any of them. Lance didn't seem keen on forcing him to do so that evening either, to Keith's great relief. They continued on his grand tour, talking only to one another as they walked. 

“So those stairs lead to some of the bunk rooms. They're just extras in that first hall right now, ‘cause most of the dudes in the frat this year live in regular dorms, like me.” Lance pointed up at the first visible door, closed and bearing a sock tied around its knob. “I'd say they'll all be  _ occupied _ by the end of the night, if you know what I mean. But come on - food’s this way!” 

Keith followed Lance into a mostly empty room, a table against one wall loaded with stacks of pizza boxes and a massive bucket of ice. Beside it was a pair of kegs, with plastic cups and paper plates stacked on top. Lance loaded up a plate for Keith first, filling a cup for him as well before fetching his own food. 

“Hope you don't mind pizza and beer,” he snorted, leading Keith after him to a counter they could lean against as they ate. “Pretty sure that's the only sustenance most of these guys are aware of.” 

Setting his food down and digging in immediately, Keith shrugged. 

“Food is food, honestly.” He polished off a large slice and downed his beverage in a few drinks, pulling a startled laugh out of Lance. “It's the booze that's the real treat, when you're as broke as I am.” 

“Fuckin’ relatable,” Lance sighed, raising his own plastic cup in a mock toast. “The hot food and free booze is half the reason most of us are here, I'd say.” 

“Thought this was a social function,” Keith quipped. Lance nodded. 

“It is. Lots of people coming together to dress like idiots and drink until we don't feel like idiots anymore.” That brought a smile to Keith's face, and Lance took it as his cue to continue. “Come with me. I'll get us more to drink, then we can find a place out of the way to chill for a bit, if you want.” 

Still hungry and more than happy to accept another glass of beer, Keith followed him, glad at least for someone he knew amidst the river of bodies crowded in the house. 

\--

Over their second drink each and the remainder of their food, Keith and Lance talked for what might have been an hour, or perhaps much longer. 

Lance was far less irritating face to face than Keith had anticipated. It could have been the drinks, but he had a way of making conversation seem natural and fun, even if they were only discussing pizza toppings and homework. Keith had always assumed himself to be a fairly boring person, but Lance made him feel  _ interesting, _ laughing at his jokes and smiling eagerly as he told stories about himself. It was a complete turnaround from the loud, rambunctious antics he was known for in class, and it was actually… fairly cute, if Keith was honest with himself. He couldn't believe he felt that way about  _ Lance,  _ of all people, but then he hadn't really known the guy outside of their chemistry lab course before that evening. 

Before long, Keith was laughing along with him, going back for a third and then a fourth drink, smiling wide and unguarded as they spoke and genuinely  _ enjoying _ himself. They moved around the house a few times, looking for the best place to loiter and talk, but everywhere they went, it was much the same. It didn't matter what was going on around them, Keith was content just to be there with Lance. The way he'd felt just an hour or two before seemed like a distant memory, and not just because of the beer in his blood. 

Lance made it easy to talk, easy to laugh, made everything seem like part of the party. Before Keith knew it, he was letting go, forgetting himself and his reservations and having fun when his intentions had been strictly practical, upon agreeing to come that night. Lance had certainly gotten the better of him. 

Keith felt a warmth in his chest that had little to do with the drink in his hand. 

There was something disarmingly sweet about Lance. For all of his bravado and brash words, he was equal parts attentive and respectful, once they were relatively alone. He swayed when he talked, danced when he walked, and made everything around them seem like music. Even the chattering of other partygoers hit Keith’s ear like a song as Lance sang along to it, making him feel like they were the only two people in the room, the way his eyes never strayed from Keith's face. 

The only time he even stepped out of Keith's space that evening was when a particularly upbeat song came on the warbling speakers in the living room, prompting Lance and a handful of others to take to the cleared center of the room like a makeshift dance floor. He grinned back at Keith and waved him out after him, dancing like no one was watching. 

“Come on, dance with me!” he urged, hand extended like he could reach Keith from a yard and a half away. Keith crossed his arms, biting his lips together to keep from catching Lance's contagious smile as he shook his head. 

“Nah man, I'm not  _ that _ drunk.” At the center of the ‘dance floor’, Lance looked back at him with a theatrical pout. 

“Oh come  _ on,  _ we’re all wasted here, no one cares if we suck at it!” He continued dancing, determined to have fun regardless of Keith's decision, but when one song moved onto the next, he drifted in Keith's direction again, hand extended once more. “It'll be fun, I'll show you!” he insisted, and finally, Keith was out of excuses. He let Lance lead him out onto the floor, their fingers laced on one hand as Lance slid the other around his waist. 

The beat slowed down, and Lance's steps slowed to match it, swaying his body and Keith's to match the music. Suddenly remembering they were surrounded by other people, Keith felt acutely aware of the arm drifting lower down his back. He looped an arm around Lance's neck, if only to bring him close enough to whisper to. 

“You know people can see us, right?” he asked. Lance nodded, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, why? Don't worry man, I told you I'd make sure you don't fall on your ass or anything.” Rolling his eyes, Keith fought the urge to laugh. 

“That's not - I mean your frat buddies see  _ you, _ dancing with a  _ guy.  _ Just making sure you're totally aware of that.” Lance's eyebrows raised together this time, and he nodded, tightening his hold on Keith's waist, ever so slightly. 

“Oh yeah, no worries man. Everyone in the frat knows I'm bi. There probably more surprised I managed to convince you to dance with me, than anything.” 

Unable to hide his surprise at Lance's honesty, Keith's mouth fell open slightly. “Oh, you are? I, uh… I had no idea.” 

“Yeah, I usually forget to wear my Official Bisexual badge, but I promise, I'm legit.” Lance grinned, and Keith couldn't stop himself from laughing any longer. Maybe it was his amusement that left him so unguarded, but when Lance followed up with the inevitable question, Keith didn't hesitate to answer. “What about you?” 

“I'm gay,” Keith said, and Lance's eyes seemed to sparkle at the response. “I mean, I'm not actually big into the dating scene or whatever,” Keith clarified, “But I do tend to  _ prefer _ guys, if anyone.”

“What, uh… What  _ kind _ of guys do you prefer?” Lance wondered. Keith laughed, a little quieter this time. The music changed again, another slow song, this one sweeter and softer. 

“Usually quiet ones,” he answered. Lance groaned. 

“Damn, there go my chances, then.” Still, he smiled. Keith shrugged, suddenly aware of how soft and warm Lance's skin was beneath his arm. He wondered if his lips would be as appealing…

“Maybe, maybe not,” he said coyly, pulling Lance in closer still. “I might be willing to take a chance on a guy that could make me laugh. Even if he didn't know how how to shut up.” 

Lance nodded, absolutely  _ glowing _ in the muted light of the room. “Now  _ that _ I can do. The making you laugh thing, I mean. I never shut up.” 

“Clearly,” Keith grinned, and Lance pulled their bodies flush against one another, swaying their hips in time with the music. Keith's pulse thundered in his ears, something in his chest screaming for more, though he could not possibly get any closer to Lance than he was. 

Lance had a solution, though. 

“There is one way to shut me up,” he suggested, his nose bumping against Keith's as he leaned in close. “You could give my mouth something else to do.”

It was a terrible pick up line, and Keith fell for it willingly, nodding before pushing up onto his toes just a little and pressing his lips to Lance's. Lance sighed against Keith's mouth, lips parting to deepen the kiss as he wrapped both arms around him. Keith hummed the last few notes of the love song playing in the background when they finally parted, the voice that called out from his chest thoroughly satisfied. 

“So… my dorm is literally across the street,” Lance murmured, hand pressed to the small of Keith's back as they swayed along with the music. “Might be a little easier to uh…  _ talk,  _ there.” He bit his bottom lip, a poor attempt at hiding a suggestive grin. Keith should have rolled his eyes but he only nodded, his face a mirror image of Lance’s. 

He was  _ doomed, _ hanging on the end of a string right where Lance wanted him to be and for some reason, that was entirely okay.

“Talking sounds good,” he said. “Lead the way.” 

On the way out, Keith was decidedly more at ease with being pulled along than he had been on the way in. Maybe that was the alcohol talking, but maybe it was also Lance's megawatt smile, or the low, soft warmth in his voice as he whispered, “C’mon.” 

Either way, Keith followed gladly. 

\--

Walking back to Lance's dorm was an adventure, to say the least. 

Both boys stumbled at least half a dozen times, and though they were sober enough to know what they were doing and where they were headed, getting there across a dimly lit street and up two flights of stairs was more of a task than either of them had anticipated. 

Still, everything about the world outside seemed to have changed in the few hours Keith had been away from it. The cool, damp air that had felt like a wet coat clinging to his skin earlier that night felt more like a brisk, refreshing drink as he stepped out into it with Lance's arm slung over his shoulder. His own arm wrapped around Lance's waist, Keith held him up and was propped up in turn as they made their way to Lance's room, laughing for the better part of the walk. Rather than bemoaning the chill of the breeze blowing past, Keith relished the excuse to cling tighter to him. On the stairs, they pulled one another along, giggling like children when Lance missed a stepped and all but landed on top of Keith, making use of the opportunity to pin him against the wall for a kiss. 

Keith could not remember a night that he'd had more fun, and when Lance held his door open to let them in at last, he realized it was likely only beginning. 

“Make yourself at home,” said Lance, flipping the lights on and closing the door behind them. “You can relax in the sitting area while I slip into something more comfortable.” He leaned against the wall, shooting Keith a wolfish grin. Keith flopped down onto Lance’s bed, eyeing him skeptically. 

“I can't imagine you have anything more comfortable in your closet than the next-to-nothing you're wearing, but I'd be interested in seeing it, if so.”

“S’at so?” Lance grinned wider, reaching for the knot of his ramshackle toga. “I do aim to please.” His bedsheet ensemble fell to the floor, and Lance made a spectacle of basking in Keith's decidedly  _ interested _ gaze. He reached for the switch of a bedside lamp, sauntering back over to stand in front of Keith in nothing but his boxer shorts.

Keith shook his head, blinking.

“Tonight is officially filed under ‘series of unlikely events’,” he said. Lance raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. 

“Unlikely? And why’s that?” 

Keith pushed against Lance’s shoulder, rolling his eyes. “That wasn't an insult, you dweeb. It was unlikely because I didn't even know Greek life guys spoke to commoners like me.” When Lance opened his mouth in shock and protest, Keith silenced him with a finger pressed to his lips. “But also because I didn't know you liked guys. Or knew my name.” 

Lance softened at that, clasping a hand to the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. 

“Honestly? I've had a crush on you for forever now, man. Since like… the first or second week of class, I think.”

“Really?” Keith asked, eyes going wide. “Why didn't you say something?” 

“You're not exactly the easiest person to talk to,” said Lance. He took a seat beside Keith on the bed, nudging his way behind him until he could sprawl out comfortably. “And I'm also pretty sure you thought I was an annoying ass until we talked tonight.”

“Fair enough,” Keith conceded. “And… yeah maybe, as far as the ass thing goes. You always seemed like you didn't like me, in class.” 

Lance frowned, crossing his arms again. “Uh, excuse me, I had a massive crush to hide, couldn't exactly bring you flowers and fly under the radar.” 

Keith smiled. “Still wish I would've known.” He bent low, nosing along Lance’s jaw, and whispered hot across his ear. “We could've been doing this forever ago.” 

Lance shuddered against him. In all things, Keith was an ‘act first, ask questions never’ kind of guy. He knew what he wanted when he wanted it, and he wasn't usually one to make unnecessary talk in the bedroom, but Lance brought it out of him, and watching Lance lose his pompous attitude and fluster and squirm was more fun than he could have ever imagined. Looping an arm around Keith's neck, Lance pulled himself up onto one arm to look him in eye. 

“Better make up for lost time then, huh?” 

Wasting no more of that time, Keith nodded, and shrugged out of his jacket. There was no sense in letting Lance run around mostly naked while he sweated under layers. He stood for a moment, tossing his coat onto a nearby pile of clothes on a desk chair, stripping himself of his shirt and flinging it there as well. When he turned back to face Lance, he was looking up at Keith, eyes blown wide. 

_ “God, _ you're pretty,” Lance said, breathless. “I mean… you're  _ really _ fucking pretty, holy shit.”

“You're not bad, yourself,” Keith grinned, maybe a little embarrassed. He wasn't used to having praise lavished upon him so freely, and Lance was so generous with it. He reached for Keith, taking hold of his hips once Keith was within reach, looking up at him with absolute reverence. 

Lance said nothing more for a few moments, only looked Keith over like a work of art, hands ghosting across every inch of skin that he could reach. When Keith unbuttoned his pants, Lance pawed at them until they fell, pausing then to take another long look at him. Keith had never been so admired, and it made his chest tight, his mind hazy. 

He reached out to take Lance’s chin in his hand and whispered, voice ragged and low. “What do you want right now?”

“Wanna touch you,” Lance murmured. “Want my hands on you, please.”

Keith answered by pushing Lance's splayed hands lower, one down to the swell of his ass, the other over the obvious tent of his boxers. “Go ahead. Touch me.”

Eager to make use of that permission, Lance palmed Keith through the thin fabric of his underwear, kneading at his ass like a delighted teenager. When Keith ran flat hands over his shoulders and chest, Lance sat up, drawn to the touch. Thumbing over his nipples, Keith wondered at the expanse of smooth, dark skin beneath his fingers, making a mental note to bite and suck bruises there, later. 

Lance seemed like he'd have no opposition to that. Hands growing more frantic in their movements, he hooked fingers beneath the waistband of Keith's shorts, pulling them down slowly and audibly gasping when Keith's erection sprang free. Keith chuckled. He was certain Lance had seen more impressive dicks in his day, but the guy sure made him feel like his was as special as the rest of him. Lance stood and wiggled out of his own boxers, and pulled Keith in for another kiss, heavy and heated.

Keith was more than ready to get the ball rolling and get a little  _ better acquainted  _ with him, but Lance chose that moment to stop, pulling his hands back to himself and looking at Keith with a disarming amount of clarity and care.

“We don't have to go any further, if you don't want to,” he said quickly. “I know we both had some drinks tonight, but I don't want that be the reason you do something you'll regret later. And I sure as hell don't wanna  _ be _ something you'll regret, later. So just… stop me, if you're not into anything, okay? No hard feelings.” 

Unable to pretend he wasn't moved by Lance’s sincerity, Keith nodded, reaching for Lance’s hand to lace their fingers together. Lance used his free hand to ghost over Keith's bare hip, up his side and around his waist, drawing him close. He hummed a tune and held him for a moment, his movements gentle and unhurried. Keith's heart fluttered in his chest. Despite standing in the middle of Lance's bedroom, both of them completely naked with the very obvious intention of having sex, it was Lance’s unexpected, romantic gestures that brought heated color to Keith's ears and face. He buried that blush against Lance’s shoulder, reaching up to tickle his ribs. 

“We gonna go somewhere with this, or you just wanna dance naked in your dorm all night?” he teased. Lance laughed, pressing a kiss to Keith's forehead before stepping back again. 

“Sorry, give me a second to be sappy, and then you can fuck the life out of me or whatever it is you're planning.” 

“Was actually thinking about riding you, if you're into that,” Keith said plainly, and Lance nearly  _ swooned _ where he stood. 

“The shit that comes of your mouth, dude…” he said, blinking in disbelief. He sat back down on his bed with a thump, mostly to keep from falling over if Keith came out with anything else like that. “Lemme grab some lube and we can get the party started. C’mere, cute stuff.” He reached for Keith, fingers curling toward him invitingly. Keith twisted his mouth to one side, huffing. 

“I tell you I wanna ride you and you call me cute?” 

Lance snorted, grabbing him by the wrist to pull him down onto the bed beside him. 

“You  _ are _ cute,” he argued. “You can be hot as fuck and  _ also _ cute, I'm living proof.” He popped the cap on the bottle of lubricant and squeezed a drop between his fingers, toying with it as he smirked at Keith. Shrugging, Keith conceded. 

“Can't argue with that, I guess. Now - why don't we put some of that to good use?” 

Without further prompting, Lance used his clean hand to push Keith gently backward, guiding him onto his back on the bed. Applying more slickness to his fingers, he nudged Keith's legs apart, settling between them and smearing a swipe of excess lube up the length of Keith's cock. Keith hissed at the feeling, spreading his legs wider. It was an obscene show that he was giving Lance, but he had just enough alcohol still coursing through his veins not to worry too much about dignity. He let Lance hoist his ankles onto his shoulders, exhaling a shaky sigh as he swirled the tip of one slickened finger around his hole, taking hold of Keith's cock with the other. 

“I'm all about seeing you bounce up and down on my dick,” Lance crooned, teasing Keith's entrance a moment longer before finally sliding his finger inside. He worked Keith open enough to take him to the knuckle before adding another. “But first I'm gonna make you feel really good, okay?” 

“I guess I'll survive the sacrifice if I must,” Keith said with a snarky grin, and Lance slid another finger inside of him as a reward for his sass. Keith lifted his hips, bucking up into the hold Lance had on his cock, humming at the blinding mix of sensations. He rolled his hips back down, riding against Lance's fingers as he buried both of them inside of him entirely. 

After a few moments of being pushed to the limits of pleasure, Keith knew he wouldn't last long with all the attention on him, alone. As much as he mourned the loss of Lance's fingers wrapped around his dick, he had other plans. Without saying a word, he pulled Lance’s hands away, wriggled backward, and moved onto his knees, much to Lance's confusion. It all seemed clear enough though when Keith bent over his lap, nosing at Lance’s cock and mouthing along the shaft while he moved Lance’s fingers back to rest against his ass. 

Lance went right back to work, skilled fingers sliding back into Keith with ease as Keith turned his attention to sliding his tongue over the head of his cock. 

It only took a few seconds to have Lance cursing under his breath, moaning Keith's name as he fought the urge to thrust hard and deep into his mouth.

_ “Fuck, _ you're good at that,” Lance groaned, fingers of his unoccupied hand curling tightly into Keith’s hair. “I honestly never wanna know how many people you've done this with because I'd have to personally kick their asses for getting to you before I did.” He laughed at himself, but Keith silenced him, licking a long stripe up the length of his cock. Lance nearly wheezed, twisting fingers in Keith's hair as well as inside him. “Don't stop Keith, please baby,  _ please _ don't stop.”

Keith couldn't be sure if it was Lance's pleading or the tender pet name he'd let slip as he begged that had set his pulse to racing, but he didn't really care. All he was certain of was how good Lance’s fingers felt inside of him, the amazing way Lance’s cock felt and  _ tasted _ in his mouth, and how much he never wanted  _ any _ of it to stop. 

Unless of course it meant stopping long enough to get Lance’s dick inside of him, in which case he could make the sacrifice. With that on his mind Keith pulled off of Lance’s cock with a wet, noisy pop, not bothering to wipe the drool from his mouth. He knew he was a wreck by then, but he could tell Lance liked him that way, so he did little to remedy the situation. Lance looked him over, hands stilling for a moment as he drank in the sight and the sound of Keith panting, begging,  _ pleading. _

_ “More. _ More, come on, Lance,  _ please.” _

Lance grinned. “Yeah? You like that? You want more, beautiful?” He worked his fingers in and out of Keith with purpose, stretching and filling him - but it wasn't enough. Hearing Keith whine, he bit down on on the crook of his neck and shoulder, pressing teeth just hard enough to quiet him. “You ready? Gonna let me fuck your pretty ass?”

Keith growled, savoring the feeling of Lance’s teeth against his skin. Still, he needed  _ more.  _ “Lance,  _ please.” _

“Please what?” Lance teased. “Need to know what you want, gorgeous.” 

“Please fuck me,” Keith hissed, and Lance rewarded his words with a hard, biting kiss. 

Fingers raking roughly through his hair, Lance guided Keith toward him, pulling once on a fistful of dark strands just to test the waters. When Keith  _ keened _ at the sting of it, eyes shuttering closed as he muttered Lance’s name, Lance took it as a prompt, gathering Keith into his lap and seizing him by the hair again,  _ yanking _ his head backward to expose his neck for hot, open-mouthed kisses. Babbling nonsensical pleas by that point, Keith coiled arms around Lance's head and rocked against him, the friction of bare skin against his cock almost too much, too good. He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with Lance. 

“We gonna do this or not?” he asked, hips canting forward again as he felt Lance’s fingers slide over the head of his cock. Lance nodded, laughing breathlessly. 

“Hold your horses, damn. Lemme grab some more lube and shit or you're really not gonna have a good time.” 

Begrudgingly, Keith moved from Lance's lap long enough to let him fumble for the things they would need. It didn't surprise him that Lance kept a  _ massive _ box of condoms in his bedside table, only that the box was pristine and apparently unopened. While Lance dug into it, Keith plucked the discarded lubricant bottle from the floor and handed it back to him. 

“You don't like to wait, do you?” Lance cracked. Keith shook his head, smug. 

“I like getting what I want. And right now, that's you.” Swallowing to keep from gaping dumbly in his direction, Lance nodded, then offered him a shaky smile. 

“Just right now, huh? Hopefully I can impress you enough that we can change that time frame.” He tore open a condom packet, and looked like he might be contemplating turning away to roll it on. Slicking his hand with lubricant, Keith offered to help. 

“This is the best night of my fucking life,” was Lance’s enthusiastic reply, and he let his head fall back against the shallow headboard of his bed as Keith slicked his cock with just a touch of lube, rolled on the condom on and added another generous handful to the entire length of him. When he was satisfied with his work, he crawled forward, settling in Lance's lap as he sat upright. 

“This how you wanna do it?” he asked, suddenly looking a little nervous. Keith wondered where the confident talk of the Lance from a few moments before had gone, but he figured it would return in good time. For the moment, he was glad to watch Lance eye him with anticipation. 

“Exactly how I want it, yeah,” Keith answered. “If that's okay with you.” Beneath him, Lance nodded furiously. 

“Shit yeah, man. I'm ready when you are.” With the green light brightly shining, Keith situated himself comfortably, legs splayed open across Lance’s hips as Lance helped to brace him there. Once they had both found their balance - and just when Keith wasn't sure he could stand to wait any longer - Lance lined the head of his cock up with Keith's slick, stretched entrance, and Keith began sinking down onto him, inch by inch. Finally fully satisfied, he let his hands come to rest on Lance’s shoulders, clamped down hard for steadiness as he pushed his body further, taking Lance deeper. 

“Easy now, pretty boy. Nobody's in a rush, okay?” Lance rubbed open palms over Keith's thighs, soothing the tight muscles there. Keith knew they probably  _ should _ slow down, but it was the last thing he wanted. Willing himself to relax, he sank lower, taking Lance to the hilt as quickly as he could manage. 

“Speak for yourself.” 

At that, Lance bit down hard on his bottom lip, groaning. “God you're so fucking hot.” He let Keith have his way, keeping his hands mostly to himself as Keith seated himself fully. Allowing himself a moment to adjust to the feeling of fullness, he carded fingers through Lance’s hair, happy just to kiss him as they took a moment to breathe. When Lance shifted slightly below him, Keith moaned into his mouth, and his eyes snapped open. 

“This okay?” he asked quickly, freezing for a moment. Keith nodded without pause. 

“More than.” He moved first, lifting his hips a fraction of an inch before dropping them again, wrenching a stuttering gasp out of Lance. He laughed through his nose, struggling and failing to maintain his composure. Somehow, it was even sexier than if he'd actually managed to. 

“You're gonna kill me,” he grinned. “And I'll be fuckin’ happy to die.”

Keith inhaled sharply, rocking his hips. From that point on, the two of them were caught in a whirlwind; he'd never known sex could even  _ be _ so good. Beyond the way he felt with Lance beneath him, hands on every inch of him while his mouth was on every other, Keith had never been worshipped with words the way Lance mooned over him. Lance had a way of talking that made his head spin, made him feel like the only person alive special enough to have been held and touched and  _ loved _ by him. It was almost insanity, the fervor he found himself worked into by words alone, but it was absolute bliss as well. With Lance's wide, warm hands working their way up and down his sides, Keith threw his head back and moaned, a loud, wanton,  _ shameless _ call of Lance's name.

“You f-feel so  _ good _ , Keith,” Lance stammered. “ _ So _ fucking good, baby. You feelin’ good? This alright?” 

“God, yeah,” Keith ground out, circling his hips. Lance used one hand to brace him by the small of his back, feeling the deep arch there as Keith leaned back to look him in the eye. The other hand Lance dragged down his side, leaving searing red streaks with blunt nails. 

“You look amazing, you know that? Sittin’ on my cock, all spread out for me. Like every fuckin’ dream I've ever had at once.” He grinned, somehow charming and boyish in the midst of all the filthy words falling from his lips. “You like bein’ full of my dick?”

“Mhm,” Keith moaned, lifting Lance’s hand to his stomach. He pressed Lance’s palm against his stomach, just below his belly button, holding it there as he rolled his hips again, watching as Lance’s eyes went wide. “Feel.”

“Holy fucking shit, Keith,” Lance managed, and then he went back to thrusting with renewed energy, holding Keith by the hips and watching him fall apart as they were both lost to the feeling. It didn't take long before they were both moving erratically, falling out of syncopation as they fought to last another few minutes. 

Keith wanted to be something Lance wouldn't soon forget, and he knew he was well on his way by the way Lance whimpered beneath him, vainly trying to keep his cool. Keith wound his hips in tight circles, loving the way Lance clung to him, scratching down his back and grabbing handfuls of his ass as he lost his grip on control. 

“Keith -  _ Keith, _ you gotta stop, m’gonna...” It was all the warning Lance could manage, trailing off as he dug his fingertips into the bruised flesh of Keith’s hips, growling his name as his body went rigid. “Keith, baby -  _ fuck.”  _

Clutching Lance tightly, Keith could feel him find release, shuddering hard against him as he bucked up once, then twice more with a stuttering rhythm. Keith waited for him to come to his senses enough to know if he could keep moving, arms screwed up around Lance's neck and head as he staved off his own orgasm, just a few breaths away. But then everything was shifting, the room moving around him as Lance wrapped arms around his middle and lifted him up just far enough to pull out of him, leaving Keith empty, confused and on the verge of screaming with  _ need.  _

_ “Lance!  _ Lance,  _ w-wait _ I need--” Keith's protests were strangled when Lance hauled him from his lap and tossed him onto the bed, flipping himself over to kneel above him. Dropping his head without pretense, he took Keith into his mouth with a few swift moves, the head of Keith's cock bumping against the back of his throat. Keith gasped, slinging an arm across his face as stars burst behind his eyelids.

“Oh  _ shit, _ yes,  _ yesyesyes, _ Lance please don't stop, I'm almost…” Lance hollowed his cheeks, relaxed his throat and took Keith deep, nosing hard against the dark curls at the base of his cock. Frantic and feeling himself on the edge, Keith tugged hard at his hair in warning. 

“Lance I'm gonna come!” It was meant to deter him in the event that he didn't like to swallow, but Lance only grinned around his mouthful, swallowing Keith’s cock whole and slowly dragging his lips up the shaft as Keith curled fists tightly in the sheets beneath him and lifted his hips off the bed, coming with a broken cry of Lance’s name. 

When he could breath again, Keith propped himself on bent arms and looked down at where Lance’s lips were still wrapped around him, as Lance moved up onto all fours and grinned wickedly. He stuck out his tongue, showing Keith the mess he'd made before making a show of swallowing it. Keith's brain effectively short circuited at that, and he fell back onto the pillow with an overwhelmed groan. 

Kissing him after that really should have been disgusting, but when Lance crawled up the bed and flopped down on top of him, Keith let himself be kissed, holding Lance loosely by the waist. 

For a few moments after that, they lay on Lance’s bed together, thundering heartbeats slowing gradually as they came down from a shared high. At some point, Lance rose to clean himself up, bringing back a clean towel that he presented to Keith. Too tired to move, Keith laid the towel out across his hips and stomach, willing it to clean him off. Lance did the work for him. 

“You wanna stay the night?” He asked, a towel-sheathed hand trailing lazily over Keith's stomach and chest, careful of the scattered bruises there. “We can have a slumber party. I'll braid your hair and shit.”

“Don't you fuckin’ touch my hair, asshole.” Keith fixed him with the most convincing glare he could, but Lance could not have taken him any less seriously. 

“Not what you were sayin’ a little bit ago, mister  _ hair pulling kink.”  _ He snickered, lying down beside him. Keith smacked him; Lance caught his hand and pressed kisses to his knuckles. 

“I really should go home, but I honestly don't even know where half my clothes are right now,” Keith sighed, with absolutely no intention of moving to his feet. Lance rolled up onto his side, shrugging one shoulder. 

“Yeah, well. No biggie. If you leave shit here, I'll bring it back to you. It's not like I won't see you again soon, I mean we have chemistry together. Oh, and also class on Tuesdays.” Waiting for Keith to react, Lance waggled his eyebrows, looking smug. 

Keith groaned and took a swipe at him with a pillow, prompting Lance to break into a fit of giggles that left Keith smiling as well. Lance had that effect on him, it seemed. When he pulled Keith toward him to press a sloppy kiss to the side of his face, Keith hardly protested, only snorting with laughter when Lance finally hit his mark.

“Seriously though. If you really gotta go, I should walk you home,” Lance suggested once they'd both stopped laughing a few minutes later. He didn't appear eager to leave the comfort of his bed or Keith's presence, but he sounded genuine in his offer. “I asked you to come and stuff, so it's only fair.” 

Keith looked him over, skeptical. “You sure that's a good idea? I mean… You’re butt ass naked and you can hardly walk a straight line.” 

Beside him, Lance huffed. “M’fine, man. Look at me.” He made a convincing case for himself for all of two seconds, standing tall and stable. Then he took three steps, stumbled and landed on his knees with his arms and head in Keith's lap, on the bed. Grinning up at him sheepishly, he shrugged. “Mostly, anyway. But uh, hey. I've got a better idea. How about you hang out here for the night. My bed’s big enough for both’a our scrawny asses. I'll wake up real early and walk you home when I'm done bitching about my hangover. Sound good?” 

The look he fixed Keith with was criminal, equal parts annoying and adorable. Keith licked across his teeth, considering his options, and finally nodded in concession. “Sounds okay,” he said, only sparing Lance half a grin. “I'm sure I'll think otherwise tomorrow, but for now I'm too tired to argue.”

“More like you wanna stick around and ride the McClain Train again,” Lance smirked, waggling his eyebrows again. Keith slung a pillow in his direction, resulting in a fit of giggles that was an unfair retaliation, itself. Keith let Lance pull blankets back over both of their legs, and accepted the pillow he was handed, still eying him with equal parts irritation and fondness. 

“My bed's comfy dude, come on, get over yourself and snuggle up.” Lance grumbled as Keith sat in place, while he burrowed beneath blankets. “You'll let me fuck you but you won't cuddle, what kinda messed up shit is--”

“Alright, alright, I'll lie down!” Keith groused, mostly just to silence him. However, once he pulled the covers to his chest and settled back against the pillow, he felt a strange sense of comfort that had little to do with the linens. Beside him, Lance looked smug. 

“See? Comfy as fuck, dude.”

“It's alright,” Keith admitted, earning him a sharp poke in the ribs. Before he could grumble too loudly though, Lance had made amends by slipping an arm across his bare stomach, fingers smoothing across Keith's abs and chest before pulling him in closer to Lance himself. Curling against Keith, he hummed, visibly content. 

“Thanks for coming tonight, Keith,” he said, punctuating it with a yawn, “and thanks for staying.” 

Keith froze for a moment, unsure if he should laugh at Lance's words. Most things were a joke with the guy, after all. But looking down at the face now resting against his arm, those pretty, heavily lidded eyes looking up at him fondly, Keith could scarcely recall seeing a look of such sincerity from anyone, before. 

He swallowed, smiling and reached up to card fingers through Lance's sex-mussed hair. To his surprise, Lance captured his hand, pressed a kiss to his palm before returning his grin, and then burrowed against Keith's side and closed his eyes. 

Keith looked up at the ceiling, still smiling. 

College had granted him quite a few experiences he could never have seen coming, but lying next to Lance McClain as he rapidly drifted off to sleep took the cake for most unpredictable. Just that morning, Lance's name conjured nothing but awkward feelings for him at best; he was just an annoying kid from Keith's chemistry class, albeit a cute one. But in that moment, he was a warm arm slung across Keith's waist, a quiet series of soft snores and weary whispers, and the single greatest surprise Keith had likely ever received. 

His dreams that night were strange but pleasant, and part of him hoped the morning would never come. 

\--

Nothing would keep the sun from rising forever, though. Even the warmth of Lance's careful, cuddling hold on him would have to come to an end, though Keith had never been more grieved about waking up in his lifetime. Still, he was greeted with the sight of a soundly snoozing bedmate, and it was almost cute enough to make his throbbing headache and questionable lack of clothing worth it. Almost. 

Rising to sit upright, Keith cracked his neck as he rolled his head to either side, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the low, hazy light. With the morning sun spilling through the window around and beneath the pulled shade, he could see more of Lance’s room, and he let his eyes wander through it. There were clothes everywhere - some hanging and others tossed haphazardly about - and more lotions, sprays and hair products than Keith had ever seen one human being own. There was a mirror of a different size on every wall it seemed, and Keith could see himself in one of them. His hair was ridiculous and his neck and chest bore the blooming, bruised proof of what he'd been up to the night before. Beside him, Lance was equally scratched and dented. Keith yawned, fighting the urge to laugh at the thought of some of their more awkward moments, making those marks. 

Never had he laughed so much during sex, or had such a good time. Even the morning after, when every part of him ached in a different way, he counted himself lucky. 

His eyes still dragging slowly around Lance's dorm, Keith spied a large cork board, hanging above yet another mirror. Covered in photos, it looked like a veritable family album, with snaps that seemed to revolve around Lance himself. Aside from a plethora of selfies, there were pictures of people who looked like relatives, and plenty of friends, but one person seemed to be a recurring theme in a large number of them. He was a broad-chested young man, with dark eyes to match the hair that hung just to his ears, and a wide smile that made those eyes sparkle, even in grainy photographs. His skin and features looked too dark and too large to be related to Lance, at least by the standards of what looked like his many other relatives. 

Curiosity pulling him by the chest, Keith grabbed his boxers from the floor, slipped out of bed and into his underwear, and quietly crossed the room for a better look. 

Up close, the mystery man was every bit as bright and bubbly as he'd seemed from several feet away, and Keith could only imagine how magnetic and engaging he must be in person. Clearly Lance knew firsthand; every photo of the two of them showed one hanging off of the arm or shoulder of the other, smiling to beat the sun in brightness. Faces pressed together, grinning at each other or the camera with great familiarity and fondness, Keith realized with a start that the stranger beside Lance was probably someone of significance. 

He was probably - or at sometime likely had been - Lance's boyfriend. 

Suddenly the room felt ten degrees too hot, and Keith was acutely aware of how sticky his bare skin was from sweat. He raked a hand through his hair, shooting a glance toward the mirror and seeing himself for how he truly looked and felt - disgusting. But then, how could he feel any other way, standing in a casual acquaintance’s bedroom, mostly naked on the morning after he'd had sex with the guy, completely regardless to the fact that he might be dating someone else? 

Keith scrambled to gather his clothes, dressed quickly, and left before Lance had a chance to wake up. 

Walking back to his own dormitory building, Keith kept his eyes on the ground, hoping that no one could see him doing the world's most awkward walk of shame. What if Lance's boyfriend saw him? Keith wasn't even sure if he was a current boyfriend, or how on earth he or anyone else could know that it was Lance's room that he was hastily leaving. His conscience screamed far louder in his ear than logic did though, and Keith walked ever faster back to his room, eager to shower and sleep and pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened. 

Settling onto his own bed, Keith felt oddly cold. His sheets and blankets were cool from a night of disuse, and he hadn't adjusted the air since early the previous morning, but even outside of that, he shivered. There was a chill that lingered in his personal space that had little to do with the actual temperature. 

Hungover but sober, he remembered the events of the night before in awkwardly sharp detail. Every move he'd made, every word he'd said, every time Lance had smiled at him, touched him, said his name. It was almost enough to break the cold sweat beginning to form at the back of his neck - until he thought about the photos all over Lance's bedroom. Whoever that was he was with in all of those pictures,  _ that's _ who he should have been sharing his bed with, that night. Not Keith. He hadn't even bothered to ask if Lance was single, among the dozens of other, more trivial questions he'd asked that night, and knowing he'd slept with him without even thinking to ask turned his stomach as he thought of the person smiling unknowingly beside Lance in the photos. Keith was clearly never supposed to be there, never supposed to see any of that. What was worse, Lance genuinely didn't seem like he'd been trying to  _ hide _ it; he'd simply made a drunken mistake. 

That's all Keith was. A drunken mistake. A one night stand, better off forgotten. 

He dropped his head into his open palms, scrubbed his face hard with both hands to keep from crying, and then silently cried, all the same. 

\--

For the rest of that day, Keith stayed in his dorm room. Despite the fact that his chest ached and his mind reeled, he would not so much as look outside, just in case Lance had come looking for him or for some explanation of his absence. But by the time the sun had begun to set again, Keith had convinced himself that it was foolish to even entertain the idea that he might. 

Lance probably wouldn't even remember their night together. He probably called  _ everyone _ baby, the first time he slept with them, made everyone feel like a lover beneath his hands. That was probably just the way Lance _was_ , and Keith was likely one of  _ God only knew how many _ people who'd made the mistake of stumbling toward falling for a boy like him. 

He wanted to be upset, to be angry with Lance or literally anyone else, but he couldn't. It was his fault. Keith was the one who'd agreed to everything, suggested half of it, and disappeared without a word before Lance had even woken up, afterward. He  _ deserved _ to feel like shit for it, top to bottom. 

So Keith kept himself busy that weekend, doing his best not to think about the hookup. If nothing else, he had learned a lesson firsthand about staying away from one night stands in the future; it was the kind of thing that only worked out for people who didn't care quite as much as he did. Caring was the problem though, because try as he might to distract himself, he could not pretend that he didn't feel a sharp stab of sadness every time his thoughts wandered beyond the realm of his control. 

Every time he thought about his classes, he thought of Lance, working beside him, half asleep or making an ass of himself in their chemistry lab. Every glance out the window conjured the image of Lance on the lawn of the frat house, waving Keith over with a jubilant smile, even if it had been a drunken one. Every moment he spent in the same room as his own bed reminded him of sharing Lance's, and how much - despite everything - he wished it hadn't been a one time thing. 

Keith's heart longed for more, his head ached from what little he'd had, and his stomached soured, the more he thought about it. He went out of his way to avoid confronting the problem by avoiding any place that he might encounter Lance. The longer he could live without facing his feelings and fears head-on, the better. 

But being lab partners with the guy, there was only so much avoiding Keith could do. 

They had chemistry together, after all.  _ The class,  _ Keith reminded himself as he headed there the following Tuesday. The class, and nothing more. 

When he found Lance at their table already upon arriving, he was glad for the fact that he was nearly late, slipping in just before the professor began the day's lesson. 

For the first half hour, Keith kept his eyes forward, ignoring the hard stares and hurt glances he could feel burning into the side of his face. Lance looked indignant, and he would surely be accosted after class. The least Keith could do in the meantime was buy himself time to think. Unfortunately, the instructor had other plans. 

“Goggles on, partner up,” he asked of the class, and Keith knew his number was up. Reaching for the desk drawer where their laboratory glasses were stored, his hand was beaten there by Lance's, and Keith looked up on reflex, mumbling a request for him to pass a pair of glasses his way. Immediately, he wished that he hadn't. 

If Lance had surprised him before with the honesty that his eyes could relate, the pain and anger in them was even more startling. He looked at Keith like a person wounded, confused and upset and  _ clearly _ ready to talk about it. It was neither the time, nor the place, and both of them knew it. Only Keith seemed to care, though. 

“So ‘pass the glasses’, huh?” Lance snapped, quiet enough that Keith didn't immediately panic about other people hearing them squabble. “That's all you're gonna say to me? That's all I get, even after Friday?” Lance pulled the drawer open, but didn't pull his eyes away from Keith's. “Go ahead. Take what you need and go. You're good at that.”

“Lance,” Keith started, but he was cut short by their professor speaking to the class. Keith's pulse picked up when he realized that while the rest of the class was watching their instructor, Lance was still watching him, intently. 

“You honestly think that's okay?” He continued, hissing just loud enough that others around them began to turn their heads. Lance was unmoved by their attention. “You seriously think you can do something like that with someone that you work with in class, and then just bail without saying a word? You made me think you liked me, dude. You made me think I had a chance and then you just disappeared, and I didn't even have a way to get ahold of you to ask you why. Dick move, man. Dick. Move.” 

Wincing, Keith brought his hand to his mouth, trying to aim his voice in Lance's direction so he could whisper rather than shout. 

“I didn't mean to bail, I just…  _ panicked, _ okay? I saw that you had a boyfriend or whatever, and I--”

“A boyfriend?!” Lance demanded, far too loudly. “I don't have a boyfriend, Keith, I'm single as fuck. Why the hell would I have slept with you if I had a boyfriend, dude? Nice to know that's what you think of me.” 

“It's not!” Keith insisted. If there was anything he had decided, it was that the fault of the entire situation was his, and not Lance’s, even if he had stepped out on someone else. But sitting there with ever more eyes landing on him, Keith realized how irrational that was - and that he'd likely thrown away any chance at what might have been a really good thing with Lance, simply by being too afraid to talk about things. Swallowing to steady his voice, Keith tried to remain quiet. “I don't think anything bad about you, I never did!” 

Apparently growing tired of their increasingly audible bickering, a classmate in front of Keith and Lance’s shared lab table pointed backward over his shoulder at them as he waved down the professor, shouting a request.

“Prof, can please tell this dude behind me to stop fighting with his boyfriend in class?” 

“Mr. Kogane, please stop fighting with your boyfriend in class,” the professor parroted, crossing his arms. Everyone who hadn't already been staring at him turned to do so, then. 

“He's  _ not _ my boyfriend!” Keith protested. A round of snickers was the reply from the class. 

“Well he clearly wants to be,” said a slight girl with large, round glasses, seated behind the two of them. She grinned at Keith as he flustered, trying to think of a response. Lance beat him to the punch. 

“Damn right I do,” he said shamelessly, as if he knew the girl he was replying to. It didn't seem to matter that the rest of the class was listening also, by then. “Or at least I  _ did, _ until he--”

“That's enough, Mr. McClain,” the professor interjected. “I'm certain no one here needs to know the details of your personal life. If you and Mr. Kogane would like to discuss it, I'll ask that you wait until after class. Otherwise, excuse yourselves and take an unexcused partial absence. Your choice.”

Defeated, Lance sat with a heavy huff, grumbling and glaring. Keith took the opportunity to do the same, almost wishing he had the nerve to take the absence and walk out. But then, bolting out of an awkward situation was what had gotten him into this one in the first place. 

He sat quietly for the remainder of the class, trying to school his features into a neutral, unbothered expression that could not have been any further from sincere. 

In front of everyone, Lance had admitted to liking him. He had unashamedly said he wanted to be Keith's  _ boyfriend,  _ and despite the laughter their argument had prompted, Keith couldn't stop mulling Lance's words over in his mind. As the lesson wore into the one hour mark, he found that he had absolutely no idea of what was being discussed, but was alarmingly aware of Lance's every move beside him. When a folded piece of paper slid across the shared surface of the table to nudge against his arm, Keith snatched it from the sight of others like a frog catching a fly, holding it in his lap to read. 

_ Sorry about that. Can we just talk after Dr. Holt shuts his mouth for the day? I swear to god I won't yell at you any more if you just promise not to ditch me this time. _

Keith braced the slip of paper on a spare notebook, scribbling his answer before passing it back in Lance's direction. 

_ Sure. I mean we might as well now that everyone knows we fucked and you apparently wanna date me. _

His attempt at snide teasing fell flat fairly quickly when Lance passed the note back once more, his handwriting noticeably messier and accented with a ridiculous smiley face doodle. Keith hated how much the words made his chest tighten, right up his throat to rob him of anything to say in response.

_ Facts are facts, my dude. I would have told you one on one first if you hadn't BAILED ON ME ON SATURDAY MORNING but now I gotta settle for embarrassing both our asses in class. Anyway, talk to you after. _

Keith made a show of rolling his eyes, but the slight smirk on Lance's face made it hard not to smile, himself. It was the first time that day he'd seen Lance looking anything less than destroyed, and knowing things might improve even further after class rendered concentrating on anything the professor was saying for the remainder of it impossible. Never had Keith looked more forward to being dismissed in all his days as a student.

\--

It took another half an hour, the longest of Keith's life, it seemed.

As everyone filed from the classroom, he kept his eyes on the floor to save himself the myriad awkward glances and knowing looks he was surely receiving. The professor left with the class; when Keith looked up again in the silent room, the only other person there was Lance. He lingered beside the door, leaning on the wall with his phone in his hand. The screen was black. He wasn't looking at it, anyway. 

“So, uh… Can I give you that walk home, now that neither of us are drunk?” he asked, the barest hint of a smile playing at his lips. Keith answered without hesitation. 

“Yeah. You have any more classes today?” 

“This was it for me,” Lance said, dropping his phone into his jacket pocket. His grin was growing. “You?” 

“Nothing until tomorrow afternoon.” Keith hefted his books under his arm, only to have Lance reach out and take half of the load from his hands. Keith bristled, trying to take them back. “I don't need you to carry my books, Lance.” Lance shrugged, holding tight to them anyway. 

“I know. But I figured it'd be easier to talk if you aren't hauling such a big load.” When Keith couldn't find sound reasoning to argue with him, Lance broke out in a wide smile, heading through the doorway with his books in hand. 

The first few minutes, they didn't actually speak to one another, settling instead for idle remarks about the empty halls and the unseasonably cool weather as they wandered out into the campus courtyard. Once they'd made it past the small crowds that hung near the school's main buildings though, Keith cleared his throat, making a point to speak first. 

“Just so it's out there, I'm really sorry about bolting on you the other day. I should've at least left a note or something.”

“Or you could have just  _ not _ run out on me, asshole.” Lance's words were sharp, but his tone was less so. If anything, Keith could hear obvious hurt in his voice, and that was far, far worse. He sighed. 

“I know, I know. I just. It's stupid, but I saw pictures all over your room of you and some guy, and I just figured you had a boyfriend or someone else you really liked or something and I didn't wanna ruin that.”

“But it was okay to  _ sleep _ with me?” Lance asked, and this time his voice was harder. Keith shook his head. 

“I didn't know about the pictures, then. I didn't know much about you at all, and that was my first mistake, but afterward I… I guess I realized that I really liked you, and when I knew there was probably somebody else that liked you that way too, I just didn't wanna hang around and get shit on, or shit on anybody else.” He looked at his feet as the two of them wandered the pavement, slowly. They'd all but stopped walking, but Keith still shuffled in place, as they spoke. “I  _ know _ it was a dick move, and I know I should've stayed and talked to you. I'm really--” 

“Hang on a sec,” said Lance, and Keith frowned, his apology interrupted. Lance didn't seem to care. “You keep saying there were pictures of another dude, but I have pictures of everybody up in my room. Who are you even talking about?” 

Keith motioned to his head, trying to describe the stranger from the photos. “Big guy, good looking, dark hair, headband in a lot of pictures?” As soon as he'd finished his sentence, Lance broke into a loud, snorting cackle. 

“Hunk?!” he scoffed. “You thought  _ Hunk _ was my boyfriend? Oh man, that's hilarious, I'm gonna text him right now and tell him!” Lance pulled his phone back out, only to drop it again when he saw Keith's decided lack of amusement. “What?”

“How was I supposed to know?” Keith said flatly. “I don't even know who the guy  _ is.” _

Lance shrugged. “Well you could have stuck around and  _ asked _ me.”

Exhaling on a sigh, Keith nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know, I know, just… Look, I'm sorry. I panicked, and I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for things to get awkward. I actually really,  _ really _ like you, and. Yeah. I should have talked to you then, and I honestly should have--”

Keith's rambling was cut short when Lance leaned into his space and pressed lips to his, silencing him. When Keith pulled away, it was out of sheer shock. Seeing his face, Lance launched into an apology of his own. 

“Uh, sorry, I just figured - since you said you still liked me, and you seemed cool with - I didn't mean to--”

This time it was Keith who did the silencing, as he grabbed the collar of Lance's jacket and pulled him close to enough to return the favor of cutting him off, mid-sentence. Lance did not pull away, but instead used the arm that was not holding Keith's books to pull him closer by the waist. Parting his lips to kiss Keith more deeply, he sighed, repeating the sound when Keith cupped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled back again a moment later. 

“I do like you,” he said, lips still close to Lance's. “A lot. And I'm cool with whatever, as long as you are too. And as long as I'm not stealing you from anybody.”

Pressing his forehead to Keith's, Lance chuckled. “Dude, I'm still laughing over you thinking Hunk was my man. The guy’s basically my brother. We're best friends.” 

Keith shrugged. “I should've asked. I'm sorry.” He began to look down, but Lance reached up to capture his chin, holding his face gently as he looked him over with a smile. 

“No more apologies, alright? All I wanna hear from you right now is an answer. Do you wanna make this a regular thing?” He motioned back and forth between them. “Because I kinda, sorta, really do, but at this point it's a you thing.” He bit down on his bottom lip, savaging it between his teeth as he stared back at him, waiting for a response. Endeared, Keith couldn't help laughing. 

Lance frowned; Keith laughed harder. 

“Why are you like this dude, I asked you one, honest-to-god, serious question...” Lance started. Keith stopped him from prattling further with another brief kiss, then stepped back with a smile. 

“I do wanna make this a regular thing. Like… I wanna make us a thing. I'm not super into the whole ‘hooking up’ thing.” 

Lance nodded, giving Keith a doubtful grin. “Mhm. Weird, because you  _ seemed _ super into it the other day…” 

Smacking Lance sharply in the arm, Keith scowled. “That was one time, and it does not reflect on me or the content of my character.” Laughing, Lance poked his tongue out from between his teeth. 

“Alright, alright, I'll let you have that one. Though I'd say it  _ does _ reflect on whether or not you'll be doin’ that again anytime soon, since most people only go hooking up at frat parties if they're single”

“Are you saying I'm not single?” Keith teased. Lance shook his head without hesitation. 

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” He turned to stand beside Keith, slinging an arm heavily across his shoulders. “Now let’s get back to your dorm so we can order pizza and make out.” 

“So romantic,” Keith chuckled, but when Lance's arm sank lower to curl around his waist, his words felt far more honest than they had before. 

“Maybe sometime I can take you out for a second date,” Lance suggested. “But until we finish finals I'd say it's Netflix and Chill for a while.” 

Keith eyed him skeptically. “A  _ second _ date? When was the first one?” 

“Uh, hello, the party? I brought you to one of the biggest parties on campus, you're  _ welcome.”  _

At that, Keith laughed aloud. “You stumbled outside drunk and wearing a bedsheet, and found me walking home. I hardly call that romance.”

Unfazed, Lance shrugged. “Maybe not by normal standards. But look what it landed me: a cute ass boyfriend. Well played, Lance, well played.”

A little flustered by the word  _ boyfriend, _ Keith snorted. He wanted to tease Lance for congratulating himself, for considering their first encounter anything other than awkward, and for generally being the idiot that he was. But with Lance's hand slipping into his back pocket and the warmth of his body near to Keith's as they meandered back toward his dorm room, he couldn't bring himself to. Because despite everything, maybe in his own way, Lance  _ was _ romantic. He managed to find sweetness in the everyday, even in Keith's bitter anxieties and sour silence. He managed to laugh and to smile and to let Keith walk back into his life with open arms when Keith would have understood him closing the door on him forever. He managed to make everything feel like a carefree song and dance, that Keith couldn't stop himself from singing along to. 

So on their walk, he meditated on just how lucky he was. For whatever reason, life had handed Keith an awkward, drunken, frat boy, who turned out to be so much more than just a dork in a bed sheet, and shown him what the sweeter side of life could sound and feel like. Lance made him feel like dancing, even more now that he knew he had a second chance to make things work with him. 

They made their way back to Keith's building, hand in hand and humming all the way. When Lance shimmied in place at crosswalk stops, Keith let himself be pulled along, because he really had no reason not to. The only music to be heard was the joking and quiet chatter between them, and they danced to it together, right down the street. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please lemme know what you thought!
> 
> Also:  
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> or  
> Visit me on [twitter](twitter.com/_quartetship_)!


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